


so close

by zannen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Fisting, M/M, Rimming, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zannen/pseuds/zannen
Summary: How wonderful, Baekhyun thinks, to have the privilege of loving this man. How wonderful to be loved by him in return.





	so close

**Author's Note:**

> Title kind of vaguely inspired by Neruda's Sonnet XVII.
> 
> This is just a fic about heartfelt romantic fisting, so please don't read if that isn't your thing!
> 
> Also, I didn't proofread this, sorry in advance ;;

“What now?” Baekhyun asks, staring up at the hotel room ceiling like it can give him some insight, some indication of what’s supposed to happen.

The sheets are fresh, a faint rosy scent clinging to them that’s ostensibly meant to inspire a certain kind of mood but succeeds only in making him sleepy. Or maybe that’s just the warm air from the heating. Maybe both. It doesn’t help that he still has so much of his clothes on, white shirt unbuttoned and undershirt wrinkled fantastically, pants mostly on the floor but still hooked lazily on one bare foot, where he was too lazy to kick them all the way off. Jacket’s hung up, at least, and the tie and waistcoat are… well. Wherever Kyungsoo put them.

The sound of running water from the ensuite bathroom stops, and he hears, “What was that?”

“I said”—Baekhyun takes a breath, raises his voice some—“what do we do now?”

There’s no answer. Seconds later, he hears feet padding on tile, then carpet, just briefly before they stop. Baekhyun doesn’t turn his head so much as let it fall to one side.

Kyungsoo, glasses back on and toothbrush dangling from his mouth, stands just inside the bedroom. He’s less lazy and more sensible than Baekhyun, already out of his formalwear entirely. Just shirt and underwear. He says around the toothbrush, “What do you mean?”

“Just.” Baekhyun breathes in deep, lets his cheeks puff, and releases it in a whoosh. “I dunno, the day’s over and no one’s telling us to be anywhere or do anything. So. I’m not really sure what happens next?”

“What do you wanna do?” asks Kyungsoo, toothpaste pooling at the corner of his mouth.

Baekhyun hums. “Maybe nothing. Um. I guess we could just… sit around and cuddle and not do anything? And I can take a bunch of pics of us kissing and just post a wall of ’em on Instagram. Think that’s the kind of obnoxious stuff you’re supposed to do when you’re married. Gotta rub it in people’s faces.”

Kyungsoo snorts and disappears back into the bathroom. Running water again, and tooth-brushing noises, and outside of that there’s only the distant sound of traffic outside.

At last, Baekhyun musters up the energy to kick his pants all the way off, then pushes himself up into a seated position, crossing his legs. The cufflinks are still there, he realizes, which prompts him to take them out and let his sleeves fall open. Then he reaches over, straining to keep his balance, and sets the cufflinks on the nightstand, where he hopes he’ll remember them later. All at once he feels better, though. More normal.

He starts fiddling with his ring, spinning it on his finger, tugging on it before pushing it back into place and repeating. He’s still doing this when Kyungsoo returns, fidgeting with the silver band and just taking in how it looks, focusing on how it feels.

“We really did it, huh,” he says without looking up. “That’s. A lot.” He feels like he should have more to say, maybe, but what _can_ he say? What words even are there for something like this? _My heart’s so full I think it overflowed and I don’t know where everything went_? Or, _This is the most important thing we’ve ever done but I’m too much of an idiot to articulate how it makes me feel_? Or maybe, _If you say anything sweet right now I’m gonna start crying and not stop for a whole fucking year_?

“It is,” says Kyungsoo. He’s at the side of the bed, still and waiting. “Need time to process?”

“Nah. We’ve got—” The next words have him pausing to fight back a bubble of disbelieving laughter. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for that,” he finishes, looking up at last to shoot Kyungsoo— _his husband_ —a grin.

In return, Kyungsoo beams at him sunnily, all cheeks and crinkled eyes. Baekhyun can feel himself melting from the inside out.

“We do,” says Kyungsoo, climbing onto the too-soft, too-nice bed. He touches Baekhyun’s knee, looks at him with painfully earnest eyes, like he’s on the verge of saying something disgustingly, hellishly tender. But what comes out is, “Are you getting ready for bed or not?”

Baekhyun, so ready to start weeping only seconds ago, squawks in indignant surprise. “That’s all you’re gonna say? _Am I getting ready for bed?_ God.” He brushes Kyungsoo’s hand away, huffing. “Why, you wanna sleep already?”

With an air of endless patience, Kyungsoo says, “No, but it’s our wedding night.”

“So?”

“So I figured we might be in bed a while.”

Baekhyun blinks, mouth falling open. “Oh.”

“We don’t have to,” says Kyungsoo. “We have the whole honeymoon, too.”

“No,” says Baekhyun. “I mean—yeah. Yeah! It’s—we can’t not have sex on our wedding night, right?”

“It’s not a requirement.” A smile pulls at his mouth. “But it would be uncharacteristic for us not to.”

“I forgot all about it,” Baekhyun admits. “If I’d remembered I would’ve prepped while you were in the bathroom or something.”

“Prepped?” Kyungsoo echoes.

“For you to fist me?” At Kyungsoo’s blank stare, Baekhyun continues, “You said we should just make it a special occasion thing, and this is a pretty fucking special occasion, right?”

“Oh,” says Kyungsoo. Then, “ _Oh_.” He blinks. “You really want to?”

“We can fuck first, if you don’t wanna consummate our marriage by sticking your hand up my butt.”

“Cute,” Kyungsoo says dryly. “Come on, brush your teeth and wash that stuff off your face.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mere first, though.” Baekhyun takes Kyungsoo by the wrist and tugs insistently. “Wanna kiss my husband,” he murmurs.

That smile again. Kyungsoo shuffles closer on his knees, and both of them lean in over the barrier of Baekhyun’s legs, mouths connecting in a soft kiss. One of Kyungsoo’s hands comes up to cup Baekhyun’s cheek, and oh, there’s that melting feeling again. His insides must be all goo by now, he thinks.

After, he grudgingly shuffles off to the bathroom to get cleaned up, wash away the BB cream and make himself all fresh and nice and bed-ready. It reminds him a little bit of getting ready for dates, except now he isn’t trying to impress—he’s _indulging_. (Good thing, too, that he isn’t trying to impress; he gets the sleeves of his dress shirt wet before thinking to push them back, then gives up and takes the shirt off completely, huffing.)

He walks out of the bathroom, saying, “Okay, ready to—” but cuts off abruptly with a choking noise when he sees Kyungsoo lounging naked on the bed, fingering himself unhurriedly. The way he’s positioned seems so intentional as to be cruel: legs spread, hips raised, head resting comfortably on his other arm. Fucking _displaying_ himself.

Kyungsoo lifts his head to look at Baekhyun as he approaches (slowly, indignantly). “Had to start without you,” he says, “sorry.” Two fingers push into him lazily, hand curling with the movement. “Think it works out better if I come first.”

Five years, and the sight of Kyungsoo’s flushed cock and heated gaze still gives Baekhyun that same hot, prickling feeling it always has, the heat moving straight down to his groin. Making to pull his undershirt over his head, he says, “Yeah, makes sense.” Then, as he’s peeling off his underwear, “So that’s a yes on fucking first?”

“Yeah,” says Kyungsoo.

Now naked as well, Baekhyun gets on the bed in the space between Kyungsoo’s legs. He gets his hands under Kyungsoo’s thighs, lifts them to make him bend his knees, kneels in wait as Kyungsoo pulls his fingers out and takes hold of the bottle of lube resting by the pillows.

“No condom,” he says, handing the bottle to Baekhyun. “You’re not finishing yet anyway.”

“You know,” Baekhyun says as he squeezes some out into his hand, “I kind of thought you’d want our first time as husbands to be, I dunno, you eating your come out of my ass or whatever. You and your thing with romantic barebacking.”

Kyungsoo hums as Baekhyun resumes the leisurely fingering with his own hand. “It can wait,” he says. His eyes fall shut, making him look more peaceful and angelic than he has any right to be. “I can spend half the honeymoon eating come from your ass.”

Baekhyun chortles. “Nasty,” he says. Then, fondly, “So glad I married you.”

Another hum, accompanied by a tiny smile.

When Baekhyun takes hold of Kyungsoo’s cock and starts stroking it lightly, he watches as Kyungsoo’s lips part, watches a flash of tongue dart out to wet them. Makes him want to pull a real reaction out of him, see what Kyungsoo does when he feels his cock down Baekhyun’s throat, because that game never gets old. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of getting Kyungsoo to break his composure, to moan and gasp and stutter out curses. But there are a small few things Baekhyun likes better than making Kyungsoo squirm, and one of those things is feeling Kyungsoo wrist-deep inside him, so. Sacrifices will have to be made.

“Really like when you finger me,” Kyungsoo says quietly, catching Baekhyun by surprise. His eyes are open and peering straight into Baekhyun’s. “Really love your hands.”

“Yeah?” says Baekhyun. Because he can’t help himself, he adds, “Could just keep going, and _you_ could be the one getting fisted.”

Kyungsoo grunts in disapproval, making a face. “Rain check,” he says. His expression softens. “But I was—I wanted to say you make me… feel loved, when you do this.”

Barking out a near-hysterical laugh, Baekhyun says, “If you don’t cut that shit out I’m gonna start crying while my fingers are in your ass, Soo, _fuck_.”

“You’re attentive and careful, and you take things slow,” Kyungsoo continues—louder, even, to spite Baekhyun and his fragile emotional state. “Try so hard to make me feel good. And I do. So good, Baekhyun. So fucking good.”

“We’re gonna fuck now,” Baekhyun announces, jerking both hands away from Kyungsoo’s body as though he’s been electrocuted, “and if I cry it isn’t weird because making love is a tender and emotional experience, okay?”

Kyungsoo laughs, is still laughing when Baekhyun’s cock slides into him. His chuckles subside into a quiet, fond smile, still in place as they shift around so his legs are over Baekhyun’s shoulders. And all Baekhyun can do is give a sort of watery smile in return, gripping Kyungsoo’s waist with one hand while the fingers of the other intertwine with Kyungsoo’s on the sheets.

As it turns out, he didn’t need to waste time trying to get Kyungsoo to make noise anyway. Soft, breathy moans keep falling from Kyungsoo’s mouth, along with sharp inhales, little “oh”s and “ah”s. It necessitates another change in their position, just so Baekhyun can lean down and kiss Kyungsoo’s jaw, his lips. He kisses him over and over, muffling his own desperate groans. In the space between the kisses are murmurs of _Love you_ and _Love how you feel_ and _Want you inside me so bad, make me so full, Soo, please_. Kyungsoo’s replies are helpless noises, a strained _Baekhyun_ , and finally a fevered warning that he’s going to come.

It isn’t until Baekhyun pulls out and stops kissing Kyungsoo that he realizes he’s been crying. Not outright weeping, but leaking a little, the trails of stray tears sticky on his skin. Laughing at himself, he buries his face in Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

“I’m a mess,” he mumbles into—his heart starts skipping all over again—his husband’s collarbone. He feels fingers comb gently through his hair, and any part of his insides that hadn’t already turned to jelly do so now.

“You’re perfect, Baekhyun,” says Kyungsoo. The tenderness in his tone sets off alarm bells in Baekhyun’s head. “I’m so lucky to—”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Baekhyun half-sobs, and if he could he’d punctuate this with a shove or punch, because words are failing him and physicality is all he has. Instead he sniffles, squeezing Kyungsoo’s hand.

After Baekhyun promises he’s fine and ready to go and definitely doesn’t need a moment, they finally get into position for—in Baekhyun’s eyes—the main event, with Baekhyun on his hands and knees and Kyungsoo waiting behind him, legs pressed against his.

“Really don’t know what effect you think wiggling your butt is gonna have,” says Kyungsoo.

“Getting antsy,” says Baekhyun, at this point unable to stop moving his hips. “The fisting part’s great, but the anticipation of it’s weird. So hurry up and stick your hand up there.”

“No.”

Baekhyun lets out a heavy sigh. “Welp, marriage was nice while it lasted, I guess,” he says. “Gonna be a hell of an annulment, huh. ‘I entered into this relationship under false pretenses, believing he would fist me when I—’”

“First,” Kyungsoo cuts in. “First, I wanted to taste you.”

“Oh.” A pause. “So. Is it too early to renew our vows?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t respond, just drags a finger over Baekhyun’s dry rim, rubbing it softly. Then there’s pressure—not enough to penetrate, but enough to make Baekhyun whimper pathetically. It doesn’t end there, either; Kyungsoo’s fingers keep dancing around the rim, or squeezing the cheeks of Baekhyun’s ass, kneading them. It’s only after Baekhyun lets out a particularly miserable groan that Kyungsoo, laughter fanning over Baekhyun’s skin, finally decides to be merciful and spread him open.

The wet heat of Kyungsoo’s lips and tongue has Baekhyun whimpering all over again. He feels Kyungsoo lick him, kiss him, push his tongue shallowly past Baekhyun’s rim before pressing deeper, then lick again. All Baekhyun can do is pant and hang his head, already so weak and overwhelmed.

“Quieter than usual,” Kyungsoo murmurs. “You don’t like it?”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” a pouting Baekhyun whines, “it isn’t cute.”

“It’s just a question.” Kyungsoo presses his wet, kiss-swollen lips over Baekhyun’s hole, then pulls back and asks, “Do you want me to keep eating you out?”

“Yes, _fuck_.”

He resumes his slow torture, and Baekhyun suffers quietly. The truth of the matter is that he knows he won’t be able to stop making noise once he starts, and there’s something vaguely embarrassing about the prospect of people hearing his helpless wails as he gets his ass eaten the night after his goddamn wedding. Bad enough that their neighbors have to put up with it.

“Want my fingers?” Kyungsoo asks huskily.

“ _Please_.”

The slide of Kyungsoo’s slick fingers into him doesn’t make Baekhyun squirm, but the tender endearments Kyungsoo lets slip do a bit. And it’s silly, because fuck, they’re _married_ now, but he can’t help feeling all soft and warm at the sweetness of it, at all the love dripping from Kyungsoo’s voice.

Ever since the ceremony, Baekhyun’s had floating in the back of his mind the thought of how surreal this all is. Because when they met, they weren’t the sorts of people who would be good for each other—weren’t even all that good for the people they were with at the time, really. Because it took three years of friendship for them to realize they could maybe be something else, and even longer to act on it. Because early on in their relationship, they broke up twice within one week: Baekhyun the first time, Kyungsoo the second, both over petty things. And today, Baekhyun got to watch Kyungsoo sob his way through his vows, even after he’d insisted he wouldn’t.

How wonderful, he thinks, to have the privilege of loving this man. How wonderful to be loved by him in return.

“Could’ve brought toys if I knew we were doing this,” Kyungsoo says as he slips a third finger in, as though Baekhyun isn’t about to break down in tears all over again.

“Well.” Baekhyun clears his throat. “Done it before. We’ll be fine.”

“I know.” There’s a short pause before Kyungsoo pulls his fingers out, letting out a breathless, “ _God_ , Baekhyun,” and then his mouth is back to ruin Baekhyun again, tongue pushing into him almost sloppily. Worse, he moans lowly, filthily, like _he’s_ the one getting off on this.

But all the attention on his ass is making Baekhyun painfully aware now of his neglected cock, heavy between his legs. Every broad lick of Kyungsoo’s tongue makes him want to grind down, seeking whatever contact he can find. If they’d done this with him on his back, he could just touch himself, skim his fingers over his cock while Kyungsoo works fingers and tongue into him. Can’t risk losing his balance in this position, though. Can barely trust his shaky limbs to support him as it is. He just wants to come so badly he _aches_.

“Babe,” says Baekhyun. “Soo.”

Kyungsoo hums and pulls away. The unattractive sound of more lube being squeezed out follows.

“ _Soo_ ,” Baekhyun says again. “Please, c’mon, _please_.”

A hand rubs over his hip soothingly, then Kyungsoo’s fingers are pressing back into him. Four now. Baekhyun can tell because they don’t push in all the way, too wide at the second knuckle. But the movement repeats a few times, and they finally make it, finally slide through, the satisfying thickness making Baekhyun gasp.

It goes slower now. Kyungsoo’s fingers work in and out at a crawling but rhythmic pace, then stop when his hand is halfway inside of Baekhyun.

“Good?” he asks.

“So good,” says Baekhyun, already at the beginnings of delirium. “So fucking thick.”

“Wanna give it a minute?”

Baekhyun’s instinct is to say _no_ , just so Kyungsoo will keep going, fill him up even fuller. But he lets out a shaky breath and says, “Yeah.”

They stay like that for a moment while Baekhyun adjusts to the feeling, the hand on his hip rubbing and squeezing affectionately, and maybe a little anxiously. Then, when Kyungsoo pulls out again, it leaves Baekhyun feeling strange and empty. Stretched out and weird and wrong.

“Ready?” asks Kyungsoo. “Want the whole thing?” There’s something in his tone that sounds as strained and raw and wired as Baekhyun feels.

“All of it,” Baekhyun confirms, words slurring the tiniest bit in his arousal.

Kyungsoo’s hand, dripping wet and slightly cool and moving so slowly, starts to slide in, from fingers to knuckles to the top of the palm. Baekhyun can feel when the thumb pushes in, because even with Kyungsoo contorting his hand, it’s still ridiculously, fantastically wide at the second knuckle. It pulls a cry out of him, high and breathless and short. Then it’s all the way in, and Kyungsoo’s fingers have curled inward, and all Baekhyun can do is shake and whimper.

“Good?” Kyungsoo asks again. He moves his hand minutely, clenching and unclenching in a way that makes Baekhyun feel like all the air’s been sucked out of him.

Instead of answering, Baekhyun says weakly, “First time I sucked you off, you made a weird noise when you came and got all embarrassed.”

“I remember, thanks.”

“But I make weird noises every time we fuck,” says Baekhyun, “and you never make a big deal about it. ’Cause you love me.”

“I do,” says Kyungsoo. He chuckles. “We just had a whole day dedicated to me showing how much I love you. Legally binding contract and everything.”

“’S good ’cause I’m gonna make a lotta weird and bad noises,” Baekhyun mumbles dazedly. “Hope you love me a lot.”

Beyond that, he isn’t aware of much, aside from the twists and tugs and flexing of Kyungsoo’s hand, the sweet things Kyungsoo calls him, the trembling in his arms forcing him to sink down to his elbows as he chokes out dry sobs. At one point he realizes he’s babbling in Korean, even though he hadn’t been aware he was saying anything at all. But Kyungsoo’s responding in kind, calling him _sweetheart_ and _husband_ , saying he’s doing so well, he’s so beautiful, so good.

Baekhyun, out of his mind entirely at this point, pushes back to fuck himself on Kyungsoo’s hand. And it works, because Kyungsoo goes very slightly deeper, pulls out by margins, pushes again in a pulsing kind of rhythm. Slack-jawed, Baekhyun moans and drools and wails, swears incoherently, feels the wave of his orgasm start to rush in.

When he comes, the sensation is so much it pulls all the sound out of him, leaves him just tense and trembling and clenching around Kyungsoo’s wrist. He manages a groan, a soft _oh_ , then can do nothing but pant and gasp.

Kyungsoo’s hand pulls out carefully, gingerly. Baekhyun lets out a hiss. Then his legs, which had only kept supporting him by some absolute miracle, finally give in, making him collapse into a ball on the bed. He closes his eyes.

“How do you feel?” asks Kyungsoo. The comforting hand has moved up to Baekhyun’s side, gliding over his ribs. “Tired?”

Baekhyun hums. “My asshole is a fucking tunnel,” he mumbles. “Could drive a truck through it.”

“I don’t like any part of what you just said,” says Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun wiggles around and rolls onto his side, then shifts so he’s on his back. “You’re _married_ to this mouth,” he says. He opens his eyes, smiles tiredly. “Gonna be like this for the rest of our lives. Gonna say a bunch of gross shit. This is _your_ tunnel ass.”

Rather than giving him a look of disgust or horror, Kyungsoo reaches forward to take one of Baekhyun’s hands. “It is,” he says. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Sap,” Baekhyun accuses. He shifts again to stretch his legs on either side of Kyungsoo. “Can we take a bath or something?”

“Can you make it to the bathroom?”

Baekhyun mulls it over, tapping his heels on the springy mattress, then says, “Nope.”

Sighing, Kyungsoo says, “Alright, I’ll get it going.” He pats Baekhyun’s knee, then climbs carefully over his leg as he’s getting off the bed. “Bubbles or no?”

A sniff. “Who do you take me for?”

“Right. Just don’t fall asleep on me,” Kyungsoo warns. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He walks away, with Baekhyun drowsily watching his little round butt as he goes.

Baekhyun doesn’t fall asleep, because he isn’t that kind of tired just yet. He squirms and fidgets over the weird feeling in his ass, mostly, wincing at the thought of how bizarre it’s going to feel the next time he takes a shit. That’s the trade-off for things like this. Amazing, disorienting orgasm in exchange for a day or two of confusing and troubling bowel movements.

When Kyungsoo returns, all of Baekhyun’s strange and unpleasant thoughts just melt away. He smiles, says, “There you are,” like Kyungsoo was gone for so long that his coming back is a pleasant surprise.

“I’m carrying you,” Kyungsoo announces. “And before you call me a sap again, it’s just more practical. I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.”

Baekhyun beams and lets out a delighted laugh as Kyungsoo scoops him up, arms under Baekhyun’s knees and back. It’s not effortless, but there’s still an undeniable sort of wiry strength in his grip.

“Still a sap,” Baekhyun says, clutching at Kyungsoo’s shoulders as they start moving. “Carrying me ’cause you ate my ass and fisted me so good I can’t walk, but you still wanna make me happy.”

“When haven’t I wanted to make you happy, stupid,” Kyungsoo murmurs.

Craning his neck, Baekhyun plants a wet kiss on Kyungsoo’s cheek. “ _Stupid_ ,” he echoes. “You don’t even have to try.”


End file.
